


Just Not Today

by gomushroom



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: When his manager calls in sick, Jun has to deal with his modelling work alone for the day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I should've been writing something else.~~ But here’s a perhaps-too-plain Sakumoto for the birthday. MJ H (very belated) BD♥!

The day Sho calls in sick—which almost never happened, at least not as long Jun works with the man, HQ doesn’t even bat an eye in granting immediate leave or finding a replacement. They quickly set Jun for the day, knowing that Jun is fully capable to handle his own schedule—at least for the day, or perhaps two if the leave needs to be extended. Still, when Jun finished his morning coffee, getting ready for his work, a thought that he has been too spoiled with Sho hovering on every single move he’s making throughout every workday lingers. Managing his schedule basically isn’t complicated work; everything usually is in good order, Sho made sure of that, and of course, morning starts out fine. What could possibly go wrong?

Taking his preparation and for once a peaceful morning without the usual early meeting with Sho—which the man always insisted on having, just to catch up with his (not so-packed) schedule, or most of the time, just to have breakfast together, provides him with a nice change. He finds himself turning to his right on their usual coffee shop, where Sho usually was chattering the details for today—mostly things he had listened absently twice by the time of the day.

Jun goes through his first lunch meeting with a photography team he has been working together for a while on a one-year-contract of stylish jeans commercial. He writes down his notes from the meeting, few additional arrangements for their next photo shoot; Sho’d demand a full report and it should’ve been in writing—Jun could almost hear the words in his head, giving him a thorough list of detailed instructions. So he puts the points of their meeting on their phone and decides to spare Sho the complication by not sending the file now. The man could use the day off, and Jun is not going to be the one who disturb the peace—since he knows that Sho will jump off his bed just to fetch his phone, keeping up with the notes, or worse, replying him with another set of instruction.

He and the team part way after a very nice lunch and then Jun finds himself downtown on his own, earphone on his ear, his playlist shuffling mellow songs from the album he doesn’t recognize instantly—somehow he must manage to put it on his playlist but haven’t gotten the chance to enjoy them. He takes a look around; lunch hour rush has just ended and he imagines those office workers have gone back to their respective cubicles, leaving the main street not so crowded.

And he stands standing at a busy intersection with a realization, sighing in what he thought as content, that he’s all alone in the thinning crowd; it is a quite nice feeling, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. Usually Sho is next to him, even in their quiet moment, making countless phone calls, double-checking their next meetings, glancing once in a while to Jun to see if he was doing okay. Usually they then decide to spend some idle time somewhere until it’s time for them to be somewhere else. Usually Sho is next to him.

Yet Jun cannot feel it inside him to dislike the fact that he’s not with Sho—he could even say the feeling is near refreshing; The breeze is cool, the sun is dim, and he just stands there, right there next to the red light, basking in the feeling of being alone in a crowd.

And there are options to consider.

He could go to his café he knows nearby, have some coffee, catching up with his reading until this afternoon for his next photo shoot. He could go back home to later go out again for the appointment. He has three hours between now and his appointment but he doesn’t feel like going to sit somewhere and spend few hours alone, or the additional fact that he didn’t bring his new book. He stands a little bit longer, watching people passing by still not moving a spot; no one is giving him a second glance. A thought of calling Sho, talking to him just like they use to do when they are working, simple things, useless things, stupid things, crosses his mind; the man is probably splayed on his old couch, reek of cough medicine and having shivers because of his fever or dead asleep. Better let the poor man alone for now, and try to decide something else to do, killing time with something else that doesn’t require him to travel far.

He takes in his surrounding; again, what should he do?

A huge bookstore ad catches his sight at the end of the road, and he considers the option, of aimlessly surfing the aisles and trying to skim few books. That’d require effort and he doesn’t really want to make ay decision—of which book to buy, of which book to not buy, of which book to order, of which other than book he should buy, he just wants to receive, to listen, to be wrapped inside something and enjoy the peacefulness.

Movie.

It feels like a great idea, once it flashes in his mind. His lips turn into a smile as Jun finally moves toward the end of the street. There’s a movie theatre on the road down the block, if he’s not mistaken. He sets up to head there, already mentally shuffling his mind for the list of movies he’s interested in. What’s good for viewing now? Going through half way, he remembers an advice he received long ago from one of his teachers back in high school: a great movie breaks you down to pieces, rendering you senseless while a good _enough_ movie sharpens you, sets you into thinking, what the hell was that I have just watched? Perhaps he should go for the second? Another thought comes up: he could go on and check if he wants, what kind of mood would he need today?

He takes out his phone and dials a number, walking slower as he takes off his earphone and waits for an answer.

“Hello? Matsumoto-kun?”

Jun hears the rustle of noise on the other line and greets the man. “Kenji-san.”

“Is there something wrong? We’re not expecting you until later at 5.”

“I wasn’t calling for the schedule. I’m already aware of that,” Jun says. “But can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything in particular that you’re going to try out with the shoot this afternoon?”

“Anything in particular?”

“Theme, or something?”

The man on the other line goes quiet for a while.

He tries another approach. “Or what kind of wardrobe I’m going to be wearing?”

“Oh, wardrobe? We’re going for autumn look, since it’s an upcoming season and all. But there’s no specific theme, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re doing a new line of clothing, that’s all.”

“I see.”

“I hope that’s helpful because I don’t really get your question.”

“It’s complete fine,” Jun says, assuring the man who now sounds a little bit guilty. “I was just asking. Autumn, right? So, soft colours, smooth lighting?”

“Something like that. We’re going to go with the relaxed mood and sombre colors.”

“Alright,” Jun says, nodding on the phone. “I’m sorry to disturb you with such questions.”

“No problem,” Kenji-san answers, before staying quiet for a while. “So, I guess I see you this afternoon?”

“Yes. Thank you and I’ll see you.”

Jun ends the call and then stops on his track. The movie theatre is in front of him, no crowd at all at the entrance, only few posters on the window. None grips his attention but one at the far corner. He gives it a sly grin: romance film? Sometimes one needs to watch roman film, and an autumn theme at that. He walks through the barrier and head to the box office.

“One for _Falling Leaves_ , please.”

The girl on the box office doesn’t even spare him a single weird look. She politely asks for his choice of seat and since it’s barely others on the list already, Jun chooses for the deep middle seat and pays for the ticket.

She slides the ticket and the chance. “It’s starting in 10 minutes.”

Jun thanks her, and goes on to the second floor. It’s been a long while since he goes to the theatre; nowadays he mostly chooses to rent DVDs and usually is too lazy to go alone. He should get himself to the theatre more often actually. It’s never bad to catch a film once in a while.

The theatre is almost empty, it’s a slow hour anyway, but Jun doesn’t really mind. He doesn’t bring anything or buying any drinks or snacks, he just sits on his seat, smack center, light still on the theatre. He doesn’t glance around, only taking in the feel of the space, the big screen in front of him. He checks his watch, put his phone on silent and lean against his seat while waiting.

.

“You radiate,” Kenji-san says with a hint of amusement in his voice, “almost disgustingly so.”

Jun smiles wider, this time waving his hand, giving a new angle of his body for Kenji-san to work with. Blinding light flashes repeatedly as Jun stays with his pose at one time.

“Give me the chair now,” Kenji-san turns to his assistant, motioning Jun to step aside off the lighting for a moment. “We’re going to do the ad while we’re at it. You are too irresistible today.”

Knowing Kenji-san, Jun takes it as a full compliment. At worse day, he usually have trouble to concentrate and give all of him into the shoot. Kenji-san is a patient man, as he slowly guides Jun through the mood he needed for the shoot, but it wasn’t always easy. They have another three days scheduled photo shoots next week for the upcoming winter campaign, mostly advertisement of newspaper variety. The concept isn’t entirely new or anything, but Jun has been doing the ad for almost three years now. He knows what to expect, all the banality, the fake smile he has to emit. Perhaps today is a good day, now that he’s feeling fine.

He waits on the side as the assistant dragged the chair into the center, leaving it for Kenji-san to set up before changing the background wallpaper.

“You’re here alone today? Where’s your other half?” Kenji-san asks, as he moves the chair a little bit, adjusts the lighting accordingly.

“He’s ill.”

“Mhmm,” Kenji-san says, “but you’re better today. Probably than ever.”

Jun laughs at the statement. If he weren’t in such a good mood, he would have question Kenji-san further, asking for the implication of such statement. Would it imply that he wasn’t good on normal days? Would it imply that there’s something wrong with Sho not being with him? Or something right, on the contrary? All the same questions but most definitely with different tones.

Jun can’t find it in him to care much.

Something is different today, he knows it, Kenji-san knows it. It’s probably the mood he caught since he left the theater to head to the studio. It’s probably the movie, bloody rom-com, he has enjoyed very much at the theater. It’s probably just him, but something is definitely different. It’s probably the feel of not having Sho beside him today—the change of scenery, the one he saw without Sho.

It wasn’t hard at all to droop his eyes to give in to the instruction of beady eyes. It wasn’t hard at all to let his body loose and hanging comfortably as he stands in front of the camera. It wasn’t hard today.

“See,” Kenji-san says, startling Jun. He has finished with his set up arrangement. Even the assistant has returned to his original position beside the computer and the set is all ready. “You are different, and you know it, don’t you?”

Jun gives a goofy smile. “Yes.”

Kenji-san tilted his head, giving a thought of Jun in front of him, standing in ease waiting, something he doesn’t see often. Or he should say, something he never sees. Jun is always trying very hard to go with direction. They’ve known each other for a long while now but the distance still doesn’t change, in constant professional mood. Perhaps it’s a starting point toward a better relation, or it’s just something that’s going to happen once in a life time, Kenji-san knows that he needs to milk whatever he is getting right now. “Okay, you keep that goofy smile and take a seat in the chair.”

Jun nods.

“We’re going a little bit different from the brief, but winter-like all the same.”

Jun nods, again, going to the center, blinking as he adjusts his eyes to the blaring lighting again.

“I want you to look at the camera and invite it, invite it to go to your side. You want to show it a good time. You need to get it coming your way, because there are so many good times you can offer it, and it’s going to be a blast.”

Goofy smile all over again, Jun smiles, two degree below his full smile. He shifts on the chair, leaning against the back of the chair before giving his all, casting his glance toward the camera and smirks invitingly.

“Good.“ Light flashes and Kenji-san is smiling behind his viewfinder. “Now, give me more of that smile. Wider. Yes. Excellent.”

.

Kenji-san gave him another full round of compliment back on the back room and they set up another appointment for the month after. Jun reminds him to not keep his hope up, as if he knows the mood won’t last.

“You said it yourself. I’m only better today—then I’d be back to my usual difficult self soon enough.”

Kenji-san only shrugs. “It was a great day of work though. You should have such great days quite often, it’d simplify everything.”

“If I’m easy to work with, you won’t find today excellent.”

“True. But, I can only hope.”

Jun laughs at that, knowing it’s a wrap for today and he’s taking all the compliment he could get; workday ends.

His good mood lasts until dinnertime. By the time they wrapped the shoot it was already dark outside. Jun leaves the studio with a smile on his face and then when he stops in front of Ebisu station 10 minutes later, few steps from the gate, avoiding the constant flow of people walking down toward the platform with their precise speed, he frowns.

What’s different?

He looks around and decides to sit on smoking area. Perhaps he needs to wait a while. His train line would be as crowded as sardine cans and he hasn’t found the courage to go through that at the moment. He sits on the far bench, staring in no particular direction, just absorbing crowd that is busily trying to get to their gate or some other parts of the station.

What’s different, really?

Jun couldn’t pin the difference on anything—something is off, something is different, and as he takes a long drag, he rummages his bag to get to his phone. No missed calls or any immediate message, just some messages from his friend he doesn’t need to reply, a notification for his subscription. Nothing from Sho.

 

His phone buzzes as he tries to scroll down his inbox. The name alone brings a smile to his face. So maybe, just maybe that’s what’s not quite the same.

“Sho-kun.” Jun knows his tone is telling his excitement but he doesn’t care much. “I am quite surprised that I haven’t heard from you until now. How you’re feeling? Any better?”

“My doctor drugged me. And it’s already dark outside.”

“Well, you probably needed that.” Jun laughs at Sho’s hoarse voice over the line. When he hears a sigh the next second, he decides to give Sho some slack—he’s still on sick leave after all. “Don’t worry about it. I have everything well documented. I wasn’t late to any of the meeting I had to do today. I already shot the report email to HQ on your behalf for our work today. And tomorrow it’s my day off, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“My doctor drugged me real good. I swear I never felt my head this heavy before. And don’t let me start on the back pain. And it’s goddamn dark outside.”

“Hmm,” Jun says. “I don’t miss you though.”

The answer comes with a sigh—not the exasperated sigh, not the one he’s expecting but a sigh with a hint of smile on it. “Okay.”

“I really don’t miss you. I had great day today at work. Kenji-san was singing praises because, you remember that ad for the winter food something we’re supposed to do next week?”

“No. Not right now.”

“We did that already this afternoon,” Jun continues. “The staff wasn’t happy at all—not when they need to transport the clothes from almost across town, and we were waiting for a while. It went pretty well at the end.

“I’m glad. Jun—”

“Are you already sleeping on your feet, Sho-kun? Are you even allowed to stand and do something in the kitchen?”

“Almost. I’m just trying to close the window. And I just need to say one thing. Another thing. What’s the thing?”

Jun chuckles. “That medicine seems lethal.”

“You’d tell me. I just. I need to say—“Jun can only hear slow breathing on the other line for nearly a full minute before Sho softly says, “Thank you.”

“You know, I’m sending my dinner bill to you. First chance.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you later. Have a good rest.”

Sho doesn’t reply fast enough and Jun cuts the line. He tries to take a deep breath, only to find himself pleasantly smothered by the thick and unfriendly air of busy station. The day was great but he’s going to need Sho at the end of it all and share the city. Just not today. Usually Sho is the one who made a decision of how they should end the day. But tonight Sho’s not next to him and there are options—even ones as simple as what’s for dinner, who’s to call, who’s not to call, what’s not for dinner to the problematic; they really have no other life, perhaps—to consider. He takes in his surrounding; again, what should he do?

Izayaka.

.


End file.
